


I'm a beautiful mess, a colorful wreck, but I'm funny

by ScrambledSparrow



Category: Original Work
Genre: Altered Mental States, Blood Loss, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Crimes & Criminals, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Missions Gone Wrong, Near Death Experiences, Other, Pre-Heist, Pre-Relationship Ryley and Avery, Secret Identity, Stabbing, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 22:28:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrambledSparrow/pseuds/ScrambledSparrow
Summary: Ryley's mental health is starting to slip.Sometimes focusing on their second job helps.Sometimes that ends up with them bleeding out on their best friend's doorstep.
Relationships: Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Male Character(s)/Original Non-Binary Character(s), Past Ryley/Gabriel, Ryley & Avery, Ryley/Avery, Ryley/Gabriel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	I'm a beautiful mess, a colorful wreck, but I'm funny

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first published work, yeehaw  
Avery and Gabriel belong to the wonderful cryptid-possum!

The Man Without A Face. Flashy name for a flashier criminal. 

Ryley leans back from their monitor, scrubbing at their face with the heel of a hand, turning off the computer as an afterthought. They couldn’t be mad, not really. The faceless vigilante has damn near everyone on edge and paranoid, especially during the sporadic lulls of activity; great for a hobbyist thief, great for the personal security business. They’re at their wits end with new clients and higher demand, a backlog of shittily-installed cameras and alarms to comb through and correct. At least they don’t have time to think if they’re constantly busy.

They snort, bitterly amused. It’s not like anything they came up with would ever stop him, not that their clients need to know that. The Man Without A Face certainly knows what he’s doing, tripping alarms just to materialize somewhere else entirely. And even if they somehow managed to pin a weakness on the elusive man, it’s not like they would bother. He’s got his own business, own priorities. As long as he keeps suspicion off Ryley themselves he can do whatever the fuck he feels like. (It’s almost admirable.)

They lean back to stretch further, grimacing at the stiffness of their spine, the dull ache in their chest. An ugly splotch of purple and blue from a job about a week ago stained across their ribs, a lucky shot that they weren’t fast enough to avoid. Could have been worse. Could have gotten between the kevlar panels in their suit, punched through their chest and left them to choke on their own blood. That would’ve sucked.

Ryley frowns, trying to chase away a nagging sense of guilt whenever the wound resurfaces in their thoughts. So what, they were hurt? It was fine, a typical hazard of the business. Wasn’t the first and definitely wasn’t the last. Avery, though... Avery definitely noticed, and that’s where the problem was.

Brow drawn over the mask, he didn’t quite buy the fact they just felt a little stiff after falling asleep at their desk, but he didn’t push for an actual answer. There’s no way in hell Ryley could tell him _I just got shot, it happens sometimes, no worries._ They would have too many questions to answer, questions they _couldn’t_ answer. They weren’t dragging him into this. They weren’t getting another innocent person killed, not again. Not Avery.

They hiss a breath through their teeth, raking blunt nails across their arms to try and ground themselves. Avery this, Avery that, the damn bastard won’t get out of their head. It’s easier to focus on work related stuff rather than fretting over that enigma of a man. It was the simplest alibi to scope out a prospective mark; throw on a button down and a tie, give their sweetest smile, flash their ID and inspect the premises in person. It was even better when they could bring some of the flaws to the table- rob them blind and then show up the next week, sympathetic and just this side of pitying, offer an upgraded system and a network inspection that they’d probably turn down.

There’s a fine line to walk between playing dumb and knowing too much, but at least the rich assholes they usually worked for had a dozen consultants come in and poke around, before and after. Even better if they pick a different security firm, it’s not like the thief ever wants to see them again. Ryley just happened to be better than they let on, poking holes in airtight security and patching them up without being noticed. And they’re always so sympathetic, playing the fretting subservient role. _Well, if you’ll recall my last visit, I did suggest extra measures to cover the gaps in the existing system. Perhaps this time you’d actually allow me to help?_ They can’t say ‘I told you so’ outright, not with the illusion of professionalism. Especially not when they’re the one who robbed them in the first place, not that they’d ever find out. But god, it’d almost be worth it just to watch their clients squirm.

* * *

There’s a crisp autumn breeze, the lingering threat of rain in the air, and a figure melted into the shadows on the rooftop. Ryley hasn’t actually been here in person yet- they’ve done all of their research remotely, because this guy was a bit smarter than average and wouldn’t let strangers into his house, even from a personal security standpoint.

Too bad. Their real grin nearly matches the acrylic one painted on their mask, fingertips tapping idly while they watch the night shift guard disappear back inside. This fucker had enough money to fill a pool and swim in it, he certainly wouldn’t notice a couple pieces of art missing. There was a domestic violence shelter opening downtown... it could definitely use some extra funding. And maybe they could pocket just a sliver, get Avery something nice to apologize for worrying him. The idea of taking him out to a nice dinner is appealing for a fleeting moment, before the realization that their friend doesn’t eat pops back into their head. Ah, well. They’ll figure something out.

They almost want to hum, fingers tapping carefully on the shingles. Adrenaline leaves them jittery and electric, dark eyes glittering with excitement, but they knew the value of patience. It’s almost time to slip inside, pocket some of the less fragile pieces before causing some havoc. There were rumors this guy had connections to some of the drug kingpins, and most of the guards had some pretty nasty criminal records. The thief didn’t mind spilling some blood, if push came to shove, though they were expecting a pretty easy in-and-out job.

God, if only they could have been right for once.

* * *

Sometimes Ryley can’t help the self-loathing spiral, the bitter daydreams, longing for a bullet through the temple to put them out of their misery. Or a knife to the gut, as it were. There’s a hoarse laugh in the silence of the hall, wiping blood that isn’t theirs off their mask, a grimace and a taut smile underneath the perpetual acrylic grin. This isn’t the way they thought they’d go, but it’s certainly fitting.

It’s not like their work even matters, it was like hurling a water bottle into a forest fire.

A second-rate vigilante at best, a petty thief and a murderer. All they wanted to do was help, but they couldn’t even do that right. Maybe they’d even see Gabriel, after this all was over. Maybe he’d still be waiting for them, even if it’s just the final goodbye they never got. Who are they kidding? Gabriel should hate them. The bitter smile slides off their face, and Ryley’s legs give out, crumpling against the blood-stained wall with a soft, strained cry.

It’s a nice fantasy, but they were a coward at heart. If they wanted to die, they’d had plenty of chances, left reeling on their own as friends slipped away in the months that passed without Gabriel by their side. Their love, their light. His death was something they would spend the rest of their life atoning for, and it would never be enough. They’d give anything and pay any price to see him again, one last kiss, one last goodbye.

And Avery... the last tether Gabriel has in this world. Ryley’s only friend, the only one who still gives a shit about him, even if his too-familiar face is a knife to the heart every time they see each other. He doesn’t deserve to be abandoned like this, because unfortunately for them, it would actually matter to him if they went missing. If they bled out in some asshole’s mansion, corpse tossed out into the street with the trash. With a muffled groan, they force themselves back upright, one arm clutching their stomach to try and slow the bleeding.

That’s one good thing about wearing so many layers- the blood soaks through their clothes instead of splattering across the floor, though that’s the least of their concerns right now. Ryley takes a brief second to wobble, the world spinning around them as they clamber to their feet, white-hot pain ripping up through their chest.

They detour and yank their knife out of the security guard’s chest- it’s balanced and not very impressive, but it’s theirs, dammit. Slipping it back into the forearm sheath requires letting go of their wound, and they hiss as a fresh warmth blooms across their stomach. Definitely not just a scratch, if it won’t stop bleeding. It’s not like they could have left the knife in their stomach, though, the fucker already tore it out before they had the chance to kill him.

They don’t even bother trying to go for the backup supplies, including the first aid kit, they hid just off the property. They just limp straight towards where they left their car. It’s the worst half mile they’ve ever walked, a tingling cold washing over their limbs, offset by the too-hot blood and how dizzy they were. That didn’t seem great. By the time Ryley finally trudges back to the car, their fingertips are tingly and they fumble to unlock the doors, hastily wiping off the smears of blood so they weren’t too visible even though it was dark. Rather not get pulled over for bloody handprints around the door.

Hospital wasn’t an option. Too many questions, even if they’re pretty sure police won’t hear of the robbery until daybreak, and there’s no record of the injury since they killed the only witness. But that’s still a risk they’re not willing to take: how does a normal-ass person go and get themselves stabbed? It’s already risky enough to strip down and risk being seen as soon as they get to their car- yanking off layers and muffling stuttered gasps as every movement sends another wave of pain crashing over them, especially when the bleeding hasn’t even stopped.

There’s a surprising amount of blood soaked into their clothes. They might actually die. The thought is almost comforting, but Avery surfaces in their head, sharp glittering eyes and nervous laughter, a gentle gloved touch on their shoulder and wild hair haloing his face like some kind of twisted angel. They sigh. Fine. _Fine._ They could TRY. If not for themselves, for Avery.

Ryley strips themselves down to the base layers of their heist gear, a tanktop under a t-shirt, bunched up around their stomach to try and stop the bleeding. They wrap more cloth around their midsection, tied as tight as they dare while they struggle to sit down in a way that doesn’t make them see stars. They don’t even bother hiding the shit thrown haphazardly on the backseat, dark coat thrown loosely on top to hide the stolen goods (wrapped in clean cloth, to avoid contamination) and the leering mask that was all-too-identifiable.

Avery... they have to try for him. They punch out a quick text, fingers numb and tacky with drying blood against the screen. Please be home. God, please be home. They don’t want to die on his doorstep without at least seeing him one last time. (A treacherous part of them can’t help but wonder if they’re hoping for Avery, or if they’re just hoping to see Gabriel in their last moments. They’re not sure they could tell the difference.)

Ryley turns the heat on high as they drive- picking through scarcely cleared forestry, careful to avoid where they KNOW there are cameras. They’re starting to get fuzzy around the edges, so tired as concentration slips away, pain chewing through their awareness. They want to turn down the heat to wake up a little, but they’re so cold and they can’t chase away the chill soaked into their bones. It takes longer than they should to get to Avery’s house, even driving as reckless as they could manage without drawing attention to themselves. They’re panting by the time they finally stop the car, thumping back against the head rest with a low groan.

Ryley has to talk themselves into standing up, into opening the car door and bracing wobbly legs underneath themselves. The gentle breeze feels biting, cutting through their thin fabric barriers and turning the sweat on their skin into ice. Avery... Avery might have to call an ambulance. They should hide the evidence sprawled in the backseat of their car, but they can’t find the energy to care. He should have unlocked the door, right? He usually does that when Ryley texts. They don’t remember staggering up to the door other than pain and muffled swears, but they don’t have the chance to find out.

Avery all but rips the door open, eyes wide and horrified. Ryley has to take a moment to process the double vision, the wild hair and the hauntingly familiar eyes. They have to remind themselves that Gabriel is really gone, but there’s no fresh anguish this time, just a numb certainty. Maybe it has to do with the fact they’re dying.

“What the HELL happened to you?!” he demands, and they can’t miss the way their chest twists at his tone, the way his soft voice cracks with panic. All they ever did was hurt the people they cared about, huh?

“I, uh.” They couldn’t lie their way out of this one. Not with blood trickling through the fingers from the strain of walking, not to their only friend’s face that swims in and out of focus. He didn’t deserve that.

“Got stabbed...”

It would be almost comical, how Avery’s expression twists into something more alarmed, more horrified. He grabs Ryley’s wrist and drags them inside, ignoring the pained cry that earns as he shoves them towards the counter. They’re definitely dying, they realize, heartbeat way too fast for how sluggishly they were processing everything. There’s no alarm at the statement, but there’s no sense of peace, either. Just a detached observation.

They haven’t stopped bleeding. Avery swears as he unties the fabric, and distantly, Ryley notices his gloves are stained red.

“Sorry,” they croak, and actually mean it. Sorry for ruining his gloves and getting blood on his floor. Sorry for scaring him, for making him worry about someone like them. Sorry for everything. Gabriel doesn’t answer, too busy slicing their ruined shirt open with scissors, expression pinched over his mask.

They’re so cold. Ryley’s not really processing what they’re being told, teeth grit hard enough their jaw aches in order to choke down the pained noises as their friend tries to disinfect the wound. The pain is sharp enough to leave them nauseous, knees weak enough that if the counter wasn’t under them they’d probably be on the floor. Everything whites out briefly when oddly cool fingertips- bare, no gloves- press carefully into the skin right above the puncture.

Ryley chokes on a pained cry when a needle punches through the ruined skin, scrabbling for purchase and leaving smears of blood across the counter. Everything is getting spotty and distant, a cold numbness spreading outwards from their chest. “Avery,” they manage to gasp: an apology, a warning, a prayer as darkness eats away at their awareness. 

If he answers, they don’t hear him.

**Author's Note:**

> i will vibrate enthusiastically with every comment i get, please... i survive on feedback....  
i'm also happy to answer questions!! hopefully i get to write more about them soon because these three break my heart
> 
> for clarification: Gabriel is dead. He died a while ago, and Avery took his body upon his death. It's rough for everyone involved (though probably not Gabriel, rip)


End file.
